Parallel
by Proud Olympian
Summary: There was a moment in which the universe seemed to shiver, a moment in which words spanned history and echoed across time and all the worlds. Spoilers for Star Trek: Into Darkness, and some possible spoilers for Wrath of Khan if you've never seen that. T for character death ish.


The glass door cannot be more than a quarter of an inch thick. But it isn't glass, it is a quarter of an inch of several combinations of alloys designed to block out radiation and other things that could potentially harm the safety of the crew. Radiation symbols are scrawled across it, warning signs plastered everywhere to the point where it would be impossible not to miss the message: _go through here and you'll wind up dead_. So why, _why_ would he...

_Thin glass and a golden red shirt pressed up against it while skin curdled green as chemicals ripped their way through the cells keeping the body alive._

_"Spock!"_

"How's the ship?"

Every word seems to take an eternity to claw its way out from his throat, each word burning, radiation seeping through his pores like acid, and the sentence is so garbled it is a miracle it can even be understood, muffled as it is. The glass should be cool, he knows it should be, and yet all there is around him is fire, and not the fire that had been coursing through his blood and shoved the warp core into place, not that - this is slow agony, this is pain, death on its inexorable crawl forwards until it reached its target.

"Out of danger."

"Good..."

It is more of a sigh than anything resembling actual words, but the blue-eyed, blond-haired man from Iowa visibly relaxes. When Spock speaks his voice is shaking.

"You saved the crew."

_As much as it hurts to stand, it will hurt even more to lie motionless in his crouch, back to the man he could finally bring himself to call friend, brother, thy'la. So he stands, he forces his legs straight, tugs his uniform into something resembling presentable, and turns._

_Perhaps it isn't as graceful as he would have liked it to be; he can't seem to get his knees to bend now that he has straightened them and he walks into the too-thin glass keeping them apart. In his reflection he can see his skin turned mottled green._

_"Jim."_

"You used... what he wanted... against him." Every few words is punctuated by harsh coughing. His eyes are fluttering and his vision is sliding in and out of focus, even as his head slumps forward a little bit more against the glass. "'s a good move."

"It is what you would have done."

"Out of danger?"

_So rasping, so wrong, that voice, that isn't him. That isn't the stoic calm of the person they had all come to know, the person they might call friend. His eyes are wrong, too, normally they are so alert- taking in everything and processing in their logical fashion and everything always makes sense. This makes no sense, this sacrifice play, this shouldn't be happening, so why is it?_

_"Yes."_

_"Don't grieve... Admiral."_

_Not Jim. Not sir, not Kirk. Admiral._

"This is what you would've done."

And again the words are slurred beyond recognition but Spock feels -_feels_- a stabbing pain straight through his heart.

"I'was only logic'l."

Spock stares down, unable to bring himself to speak, to touch the glass, to do _anything_ even though he knows he _should_ but he_ can't_ and it rips him apart inside.

"I'm scared, Spock."

The words are thrown out quickly, with shaky exhales and wide eyes finally betraying something other than the hurt. The Vulcan's brow furrows, and still he can't speak.

"Help me... not feel."

_"It is not logical."_

_He looks down at his hands, presses one against the glass for support._

_"The needs of the many..."_

_His eyes screw shut as another wave of pain comes rushing forwards._

_"...the needs of the few." Kirk doesn't quite remember the way the proverb goes exactly, but Spock bobs his head in a parody of a nod, eyes still closed._

_"...or the one."_

_His legs decide that now would be a good time to bend, even though he isn't walking, and he finds himself trying to find a handhold on the smooth glass as he slides downwards._

_"I never took... the Kobyashi Maru test... until now..." He manages to look up to meet those familiar blue eyes. "What do you think... of my solution?"_

Bewildered eyes focus their gaze on something Spock cannot see.

"How do you choose... not to feel?"

The Vulcan finds there is a strange lump in his throat that his hard to speak past, and a burning at his eyes he cannot explain.

"I... I do not know." He shakes his head. "Right now, I am _feeling_..."

The sentence trails off. Neither of them are sure if it has an ending or not.

"I want... you to know why... why I couldn't let you die." With what felt like more effort than it took to crawl through the irradiated shafts, he lifted up his head to meet the grief-stricken brown gaze mere inches apart from his own and so far away. "Why I went back for you."

_"Spock..."_

_His legs finally give out and he drops like a stone, sliding down, down, down until he finds himself with his back to one wall and his head resting against another._

_"I have been..." He has to say this, he has to, there won't be another chance and he has to say this now, he must... "...and always shall be... your friend." Of its own accord his hand seems to find a hidden strength of its own and presses up against the glass in a Vulcan salute. "Live long... and prosper..."_

_Kirk's hand presses up against the opposite side like a mirror, only to watch as Spock's hand drops away._

"Because you are my friend."

Jim's hand slides over to brush against the glass, Spock follows, spreading his fingers in the classic Vulcan gesture for peace and a long, prosperous life.

Jim does the same before his hand drops, and his bloodshot eyes lose something in them.

A single tear drips onto the floor.

_"I have done far worse than kill you... I have hurt you. And I wish to go on hurting you. I shall leave you as you left me, as you left her, marooned for all eternity on the center of a dead planet... buried alive, buried alive..."_

There was a moment in which the universe seemed to shiver, a moment in which words spanned history and echoed across time and all the worlds.

_**Khan.**_


End file.
